Among those troubling questions on job applications which can give one a hernia for their open-ended vagaries, questions like, “What are your greatest faults?” “How dare you consider yourself worthy of applying to this position, foolish mortal?” “ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn”and “Where do you see world domination in five years?” I happened upon a profound inquiry, at least it was to me personally.
Question 9: How do you let people into your own life? Include the joys and hardships.
My answer: I personally make an effort to be extremely open, to be ready for friendship wherever it may be offered. I try to do this by always speaking the truth, always looking for ways to make others laugh, and by being ready to listen. This however does not make for good long term friendships. In my attempt to always speak the truth, I eventually come to some confrontation that kills the relationship. In my attempt to make others laugh, I am not taken seriously. And for all I try to do to listen, I find understanding is a much greater struggle. In general, I will be a friend to anyone willing to be friendly.
And that is where I ended my answer, because, truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I should say more. I wasn’t sure I should say that I try to speak the truth because I am afraid, still childishly afraid, that I will once again be surrounded by peers demanding that I lie; I didn’t say that I tell the truth as best I can because I want it distinctly understood I will never lie for you, to make you comfortable, to help you. I didn’t want to say that I make jokes so that people won’t take me seriously, so that nobody cares enough to hurt me. I didn’t say that I listen because I can’t understand, that I will never understand, no matter how hard I try. I didn’t say that the whole human race is like some alien species to me, some Lovecraftian horror that beggars the imagination. I didn’t say that I can’t make friends, and that even when I do, I feel so lonely.
I didn’t say these things because I wanted the job. Let us put on our masks.
I, the contrarian creature that I am… I can’t do anything about masks… it’s my words. I say stuff and they’re never quite right or whatever. Like I speak through a filter that no one understands… So I’m always lying, even if I’m not. Because hey, I don’t know… I don’t know what I don’t know and… fuck. I hate words.
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That’s understandable.
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